


A Breath of Magic

by Lillielle



Series: A Breath of Romance, A Twist of Despair [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Founders Rooms, Romance, Waltzing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillielle/pseuds/Lillielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: I own nothing.</p>
<p>She dances to the music only she can hear, and he listens in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Breath of Magic

He can't be an arse around her.

The haughty tilt of his head, the sneering words that spring so readily to his lips, they all vanish when he sees her, the gently reproving glint in those placid grey eyes, the way she tosses her hair until it floats about her shoulders, a shimmering pale cloud that reminds him of his own.

His friends tease him, pointing out he's dating Loony. She's barmy, didn't you know? Absolutely bonkers.

He sighs and shrugs and finally turns on them, eyes like frosted steel, as he tells them to lay off her. She's his, and that's the end of it, and if he hears one more word about how she's tricked him with one of her imaginary bloody Nargles, he will find a way to reverse that person's internal organs, and it will be the slowest death they've ever dreamed of.

The sickly faces staring back at him after that pronouncement amuse him, and he shares the tale later, discreetly edited, when he is curled up with Luna by the fireplace in the Room of Requirement. She only sighs and shakes her head, but he can see the ghost of a smile lingering over her lips, and it soothes him.

"You worry too much about what other people think," she tells him and kisses the corner of his mouth. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is what you think of yourself."

"Tell that to Father," Draco snorts, only slightly self-deprecating. Luna's mouth turns up into a full-blown smile, full of sprite-like mischief.

"I will," she promises, and kisses him.

When they hold hands in the corridors, people stare. Once or twice Harry Potter has come up, looking as if he's dying to say something, dying to insult or threaten Draco, but one look from Luna, and he wanders off again, fingering his wand and giving Draco malicious looks out of the corners of those vivid green eyes. He doesn't care. The old, bitter rivalry has evaporated like smoke, blown away by the gently pursed lips of the ethereal Ravenclaw. Perhaps he should mind, but he can't.

"Come with me," she says one day, tugging his hand and leading him down this corridor and that, past dusty suits of armour and cracked paintings.

"Where are we?" he asks, his voice hushed. She stops before a simple wooden door and whispers to it, stroking it with long, pale fingers, until it creaks open.

"A place of magic," she smiles, and pulls him in.

He looks around, feeling more than a bit over-awed. Despite the obvious age of the room, it is clean, well taken care of. The light is warm and mellow, spilling through broad windows. Enormous pictures of Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin dominate the walls, where the bookcases don't take care of them, that is.

"Is this..." he asks, and she entwines her fingers tighter with his.

"I don't know," she answers simply. "But it's _beautiful,_ isn't it?" He has to concur.

"Dance with me?" she requests, swaying to the music only she can hear. He hesitates, then sighs and steps into the waltz she has created.

For a moment, he swears he can hear the music with her.


End file.
